


'Call Me When You Get Home'

by resistance



Series: How To Say 'I Love You' [2]
Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: Brotp, CIA Agent Tasha Zapata, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, F/F, I do what I want, I know it begins with a W in the show, Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), Long-term op, Longing, Loss, Patterson doesn't have a name so I called her Amy, Special Operations Squad - Freeform, Special Ops Jane, background Zapata/Reade, best-bros Jeller, but fuck you, mayfair lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-18 17:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resistance/pseuds/resistance
Summary: In which there is longing.OR// in which Jane surprises Patterson by coming home early after a long-term operation





	'Call Me When You Get Home'

**Author's Note:**

> Title from # 33 in the list linked at the end. 
> 
> Written to the songs "I won't let you go" by James Morrison, "All Of The Stars" by Ed Sheeran, and the 'Long Distance' playlist on Spotify.

Patterson missed Jane. 

That much was clear. 

 

She missed waking up to Jane's beautiful doe-eyed look she always had having just woken up. She missed the soft tunes Jane would hum as she cooked dinner. She missed the smiles, the cuddles, the intimate evenings and passionate nights. Patterson missed Jane. 

And it hurt. 

It hurt so fucking much. It was like someone had punched her in the chest and left a hole where her heart should have been, and all of a sudden she couldn't function like she did. There couldn't be any contact between Jane and the team from the NYO, in case her calls were traced or her phone was tapped, so Patterson was completely in the dark about the whole situation. Jane told her everything that she could about the mission, but it wasn't a lot. Paris, long-term terrorist plans that needed to be stopped, a six-month op. 

When Jane left for the mission, Patterson had cried for the first week. Now, five months in, she saved her tears for the long nights where sleep avoided her grasps until the early hours. Jane's old hoodies didn't smell like her anymore, neither did her pillow. The only evidence that Jane even lived there anymore was the old instant camera that sat on the nightstand, kept clean by Patterson's refusal to let any of Jane's belongings dust over. 

Patterson didn't miss Jane. She ached for her. 

 

 

Jane missed Patterson.

That much was clear. 

 

She missed the feeling of Patterson's head on her chest and the small noises she would make while she slept. Jane missed how Patterson would sing whilst making breakfast, or hum 'House of the Rising Sun' whilst organising her board games. 

And it was agony. 

Her first complete memory was crawling out of a duffel bag in times square, being poked and prodded and asked questions she didn't know the answer to. And then it was a kindness. A blonde stranger asking if the ink on her body hurt, careful with her questions and asking if it was okay to touch before she did. Patterson was the first person she could remember that showed her warmth. 

And then Mayfair packed her off to France for six months. Apparently 'her multilingual abilities and skills in combat' would act as a 'viable asset to the Operation'. She tried to protest, but Bethany Mayfair didn't care.  Or, she did, just more about the operation than her agents- which was understandable, Jane supposed; the fate of the world trumped Jane's relationship with Patterson, but that didn't stop her missing her favourite techie. 

Jane yearned for Patterson, talking to the stars she could see from her temporary apartment's window, in the hopes that Patterson would hear her. 

Five months both flew by and stretched to infinity all at once. In the grand scheme of things, the six months were quickly over. She showed up, did the op, stopped the threat. But when she stopped, when she wasn't running drills or going over the plan until it was drilled into her head, time dragged by in pathetic jumps, like thick tar over sand. And so when Jane found out the op had finished early, that the CIA had neutralised the threat and that she could go home, she couldn't have packed her bags fast enough. 

Her plane ride back was too long for her excited brain, and she spent the entire eight-hour flight bouncing her leg anxiously- much to her operations partner's dismay. Her immediate thought was to call Patterson, but a small part of her told herself to wait, to make it an event. And, strangely, the rest of her agreed. So instead of returning to the apartment that she had been desperately missing for the past six months, she called Weller from one of the payphones in New York. 

It rang precisely five times before he picked up- his usual speed, Jane noted. 

_"Weller,"_

"Hey! Kurt! it's me, Jane. Listen-" 

He sounded vaguely caught off guard when he next spoke.  _"What- how- why are you back so early? You're not meant to be back yet,"_

Jane could hear voices in the background, familiar ones at that, but brushed it off. "The op finished faster than expected- the CIA neutralised it. Listen, Kurt, I need a favour-" 

 _"Give me just a second, Sarah. Let me go somewhere a little quieter,"_ he interrupted. Jane could hear the shuffling of feet on a carpet and the closing of a door.  _"Sorry,"_ he said _, "The team's come over for drinks. I assumed you didn't want anyone knowing you were here, considering you called me and not Patterson,"_

At the mention of her girlfriend, Jane's chest tightened, her heart aching in her ribcage once more. "Oh, yeah, um, thanks. Uh- Kurt, I need- I need a favour," 

 _"Okay?"_ he sounded sceptical- as he should be. It was his job to be sceptical. " _Whatddya need, Jane?"_

Jane took in a deep breath, thinking herself ridiculous for asking. "I need you to keep Patterson out of our apartment," 

 _"Um,"_ Kurt started, and Jane could practically hear the eyebrow raise that was undoubtedly plastered on his face. _"Why?"_

"I-uh, I want to surprise Patterson? She doesn't know I'm back yet, and I want to be there for when she gets home," 

On the other end of the line, Kurt smiled a stupid little supportive smile. He was one of the first to realise Jane had feelings for Patterson and wholeheartedly supported any cliche romantic thing his friends wanted to do. So, naturally, he agreed. _"Okay. I'm pretty sure I've got the Harry Potter movie box-set somewhere- a gift from Patterson if I remember rightly. I'll stick that on and it'll keep her entertained for about two hours. Give me a call when you're all set up and I'll send her home, okay?"_

Jane grinned. "Thank you, Kurt. I owe you one," 

_"Pizza and beer and then we'll call it quits,"_

"Deal. I've gotta go now- payphone's about to run out, but I'll see you next week at the NYO?" 

_"Yeah. Bye, Jane,"_

"Bye,"

And with that, Jane made her way back to the place she had ached to be for the past five months, dragging her suitcase behind her as she clambered into a cab. 

* * *

 

 

With twelve bunches of Ixia flowers sat in vases all around the living room of their apartment, small pools of tealights glowing warmly on tables; shelves; and side-stands, and Jane's luggage successfully put away, Jane finished preparing for Patterson's predicted homecoming with ten minutes to spare until eleven o'clock. 

She paced nervously around the apartment, half-convinced she'd worn through the plush rug that sat beneath her socked feet. Her boots sat beside the doorway of the hall like they hadn't done for almost half a year, and the coat she'd taken to France with her was back on the coatrack. It was almost home again. But it was missing one key component. 

Jane switched off the lights in the apartment, guided only by the dim light of the candles around the room. She didn't want Patterson to see her straight away- no, not at all- she wanted her to feel the warmth in the apartment, to smell the scent of the Ixia, to turn on the lights in their flat to find Jane stood there in the middle of the room, a warm smile on her face and her arms spread wide for an embrace. 

It was around twenty minutes after that moment that Patterson came home, her keys sliding into the lock with a satisfying series of clicks and a familiar jingle that Jane didn't know she had missed until she heard it. She could sense Patterson shuffling around in the dark, probably kicking off her boots and hanging up her coat before she even stepped into the living room. Her keys clunked against the small blue bowl they kept on a table in the hall, and softened steps grew closer and closer to where Jane was stationed, her heart pounding in her ears. 

Patterson's silhouette stopped in the doorway of the living room, turning side to side to look at the candles. She couldn't see Jane in the dull glow of tealights, clearly, and turned to flick on the lamp on the corner table beside her, eyes travelling in a logical circle around the room. Her gaze stopped dead on Jane - who was in the centre of the room - and gasped, blue eyes welling up with tears. 

"Is it really you?" she asked, a shaking hand coming up to cover her mouth. 

Jane, also in tears, nodded, a watery smile gracing her lips. "Surprise?"

With that, Patterson throws herself forward, holding Jane so tightly it's like she'll crumble if she doesn't. With the way Patterson was shaking at that moment, it was highly possible that that was the case. 

She buries her case into the crook of Jane's neck as Jane wraps her arms around her shorter girlfriend, holding her just as tightly, if not tighter. Then, wordlessly, Patterson pulled back and looked up at the taller woman, hands resting on either side of her face. She leaned up, pulling Jane down into an opened mouth kiss. It was salty with tears and sloppy and desperate, but neither of them cared. Patterson's mascara was halfway down her (and Jane's) face, but she couldn't give a damn even if she tried. Jane's hand tangled in Patterson's blonde locks, the other one settling at the small of her back, holding her close. 

When they pulled away it was reluctant, and Jane couldn't help the smile on her face.

"Oh God I missed you so much," Patterson whispered, resting her forehead on Jane's own. 

Jane grinned, placing another quick kiss on her lips. "You have no idea," she breathed, bringing one hand down to tangle with Patterson's. "I'm never letting you go. Not again," 

"I love you, Jane Doe," 

In one swift movement, Jane picked Patterson up, setting her legs on her hips with ease. She kissed Patterson softly, arms around her waist again. "And I love you, Amy Patterson,"

 

And, as their lips collided for what wouldn't be the last time that night, the ache in Jane's chest evaporated, replaced with a warmth in the pit of her stomach and her heart beating a mile a minute. She was finally home, after all. 

And she couldn't have been more content to stay there. 

 

* * *

 

The list that inspired this series can be found [here](http://p0ck3tf0x.tumblr.com/post/98502010026/one-hundred-ways-to-say-i-love-you) 

 

 


End file.
